


The Family Game

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Being Human (US/Canada)
Genre: Anger Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood Play, Bottom!Aiden, Bottom!Marcus, Gentle Sex, M/M, Marking, Rough Sex, These Three I Swear to God, Top!Aiden, Top!Bishop, Top!Marcus, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Family Incest??, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:12:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Bishop has his own game he likes to play with his progeny.





	The Family Game

**Author's Note:**

> So thanks to my Samifer family, I have started watching Being Human (US) and I'm just about done with the first season. @brieflymaximumprincess has been getting all the flails. I talked about this with her last night and just as I was about to start on the season 1 finale, I went "I have to write this idea properly". So, Enjoy! This might be a new fanfic fandom for me :p

Bishop had a game for his sons, one the three of them always enjoyed playing. It got some aggression out of Aiden and Marcus, which was always a bonus. It made Aiden feed, although from his vampire-brother which Bishop knew he disliked. And it gave Bishop a show. 

Bishop’s always enjoyed watching carnality in action. He remembered both Marcus’ and Aiden’s first kills vividly, having watched them. He enjoyed watching them kill, watch them be the predators that they are. He’s even enjoyed watching them fuck- other women, other men, each other. Anything that showed off their carnal side, he enjoyed. 

It was his vice, one that he’ll gladly take to his ashes. 

The game in and of itself was very simple. The three of them would go into a secluded area of Bishop’s pleasure house, and lock the doors. He’d pull up a chair and ask the boys to strip. 

They both knew what would happen then. 

Once stripped, they’d circle each other like the other was prey, black eyes and fangs sliding into place as they watched each other warily, wondering who would make the first move. 

In the end, Marcus usually did. Marcus was the bookworm moreso than Aiden. He didn’t understand strategy the same way his younger brother did. 

That would often be the first mistake of many for Marcus that night, not that Marcus would care. He’d lunge at Aiden, the ginger hair seeming to glow in the candlelight. Aiden would lean, throwing Marcus over his hip and into the wall, and not for the first time would Bishop thank his foresight into reinforcing the walls. 

They’d claw and tear at each other, brother fighting against brother. Fangs would sink into sensitive spots, spots that they knew as well as the backs of their hands. Marcus would always aim for Aiden’s lips to drink from, the swelling from the bite making them plumper; the bite into his hip, the strong muscles underneath flexing and jumping underneath the skin. Aiden would fight dirtier. He’d go for the jugular quite literally, hearing Marcus whimper in fearful arousal; the inside of Marcus’s pale thigh, the blood there being the sweetest in the youngest’s opinion. 

Covered in blood and sweat and aroused even beyond their mutual hatred for each other, it was time for the main event. The fight to be on top. 

Nails, teeth, fangs, harsh words and demands for the other to surrender would surround the air, and Bishop would wonder why he didn’t bring a glass of his own in to watch his sons duel it out in this macabre dance. It  _ was  _ entertainment, after all. But he knew he’d get a taste of one of them soon, so he merely sat back and relaxed, ignoring the hard length underneath his jeans. 

Sometimes, Marcus would win, and Aiden would growl and claw at the floor as Marcus pressed in, pinning his brother down by his neck and snapping his hips harder than either of them would think possible. Snarling, grunting, and cursing would abound in the room, and Bishop smirked to himself, seeing the smile of satisfaction on Marcus’ face. He knew, as did everyone else, that Marcus was more proud of pleasing his maker and beating the favorite out than anything else. 

Other times, Aiden would win. Those times, Marcus would be on his back, legs pressed up over Aiden’s shoulders as the youngest snarled his dominance and fucked Marcus hard enough to move him across the floor, scraping up the other vampire’s back. Aiden had no need to physically hold Marcus down the same way Marcus does. Aiden  _ knew  _ of his place as the favorite of Bishop, as the son who could do no wrong. Marcus may be higher in rank than Aiden, but it was only on paper. In Bishop’s heart, Aiden was better than Marcus. 

This was how they got their frustrations out on each other, and once both of the vampires were spent, panting, groaning, cock slipping out of a hole and covered in blood and sweat and the bottom’s release, they laid side by side each other, equals and content with the other’s company. 

That’s where Bishop came in. 

Stripping himself, he’d approach the top and turn them over gently, running his fingers through their hair gently. Marcus would protest against the hair stroking, insisting that he wasn’t a dog; Aiden would lean into it, purring almost. His boys were so different, and he couldn’t be prouder of that fact. 

He’d take his time, licking blood from the skin of the former top, watching for signs of distress or anything that would make them end the game early. His hands would be soft and soothing over their frigid bodies, making them warm to the touch despite the fact that he was as cold as they were. 

Once they were nice and relaxed, he’d hike their legs around his waist and slowly press in, going slower than they had done previously. Aiden would huff and groan, rolling his eyes and mumbling about Bishop’s need for control. Marcus would whine and buck his hips hard enough that Bishop would pin him to the ground, growling out the order for him to  _ wait. _

Once he was bottomed out inside of whomever, he’d wait. Let them adjust, relax. Assess the situation. Aiden would take calm, controlled, deep breaths. Center his body and his mind and attempt to resist the urge to fight against the tenderness that his father was bestowing upon them. Marcus would whine and attempt to writhe underneath Bishop’s strong hold. 

Once they had stilled and calmed down, that’s when Bishop would begin to move. Slowly, gently. Rocking himself back and forth, making shushing noises when whines and pleas for faster, harder, make me bleed reached his ears.

“Bare your neck,” He’d say halfway through, thriving on their submission. 

They’d resist. Of course they would. They were strong, healthy Alpha males. Submission to them- to all of them- meant weakness, but for Bishop, he saw it as more of an acknowledgement of who their maker was, who created them. An almost sort of sign of devotion to him. He’s explained that to them, many times, but he’s been their ages before. He understood perfectly. It’ll take a century or two more before they full understand. 

Aiden would submit quicker than Marcus, slowly elongating his neck, breathing heavy. Bishop would nuzzle into it, licking the soft flesh there, smelling  _ blood  _ and  _ adrenaline  _ and  _ testosterone  _ and  _ Marcus  _ the clean smells of Suffolk County Hospital. Marcus always took some time, even though he’d know the simple gesture would please Bishop to no end. He’d close his eyes, as if it’d physically pain him to do so. Just like with Aiden, he’d scent him gently, smelling the same  _ blood  _ and  _ adrenaline  _ and  _ testosterone  _ and  _ Aiden  _ and the soothing scents of Sapp and Sons and formaldehyde. 

He’d bit gently, smiling against their skin as his teeth sank into the tender flesh. Marcus would whine and whimper, his arousal spiking even more as one of his most tender spots was bit and sucked, causing the ginger haired vampire to claw at Bishop’s back. He’d pant, his eyes closed but not from the perceived pain of submission; rather, the rapture of his father biting him once more. Aiden, on the other hand, would groan, his body stiffening under Bishop as he elongated his neck more, as if to offer Bishop more room. He’d gasp out “Bish, Bish, oh God, Bish” as he clung to his maker. 

The hip rolls would be faster, smoother, focused on pleasing the vamp below him rather than his own pleasure. It’d tickle in the back of his mind and at the base of his spine, the growing pleasure of heat in his groin, but he wouldn’t go harder. He wouldn’t turn into an animal on them during this time. They had their time to be animals; jealous animals who clawed and bit and fought. Now, it was time to be reminded that they are creatures worthy of love and respect. 

He’d chose the top because whomever was the top had the most issues at that time. The most aggression, built up and housed inside of a dangerous being. And what he wanted to do was minimize the damage that he’d cause. 

He loved them both, and wanted the best for them. That’s why this game was created- a safe way for them to get their aggression out, and yet be shown that they are loved and cared for in this family. 

Right before the brink is when Bishop loved them best, though. Both, seemingly devoid of any emotions rather than anger, jealousy, and bloodlust, were actually quite expressive, both in face and in voice. Marcus’ eyes would squeeze shut, his fangs half rescinded as if they can’t decide to be shy or out and proud. His pale skin would be flushed into a soft blush of pink as his lips, stained red with blood, would  _ beg.  _ Beg for Bishop to go harder, faster, make him hurt. For him to cum. For him to be released. It wasn’t “Bishop” he was calling for; it was “James”, as if saying  _ Bishop  _ would be blasphemous to the act that they had been and were currently committing. Aiden’s eyes, in contrast, were wide open, black as night and his fangs fully elongated. Quiet snarls would sound from the back of his throat, lips swollen and his skin, if at all possible, got paler. He never begged, just simply kept moaning “Bish, Bish, God, Bish,” over and over again. 

They both came in similar fashions, once Bishop gave them permission (neither of them wanted to relive the time they came  _ without  _ his permission)- arched backs, cries of pleasure, cocks pulsing across their hips and stomachs. 

And once Bishop was sated, whomever hadn’t just been fucked by him would crawl into the other’s arms and hold them close, everyone breathing heavily. 

It was the only time Aiden and Marcus got along, besides in front of the Dutch- and that was just a show. They’d lay there, curled up in the other’s strong arms.  After a little bit, they’d offer the one weakened by Bishop’s fuck their own blood to drink. 

Marcus would eagerly drink from Aiden, but only a small amount. Lax in Aiden’s arms, he’d curl his fingers around Aiden’s arm as he fed before thanking him. 

Aiden took a little more convincing. I drank enough, he’d say as he tiredly leaned against Marcus, eyes half lidded. I don’t want to hurt you. Finally, after some pleading and cajoling, he’d drink from Marcus, the older vampire giving soft little whimpers as he allowed Aiden to get his fill. The dark haired vampire would then thank the ginger. 

That always ended with a soft kiss, the only tenderness they’d show each other and only after all their aggression had been fought and fucked away. 

Bishop would let them rest, a small wistful smile on his face. It’d be wonderful if Aiden and Marcus got along like that more often. Like they actually cared about each other. But he knew that would probably never happen. After a while, he’d gently help both boys up and lead them to the large, custom made bed he built out of two King sized beds and watch them tumble into it, curling up against each other. Blowing out the candle, he climbed into bed with them, curling his arms around them and feeling them snuggle into him as they drifted off to sleep. 

He’d lay awake for a bit, observing them, watching how a whimper from Aiden would make Marcus tug his younger brother closer; or how Marcus would stretch slightly before burrowing into Aiden’s chest. 

In those moments, they were a family who loved and cared for each other. 

And that is what Bishop loved most about this game. 

In the morning, Aiden and Marcus would go back to being spiteful, jealous, angry towards each other. Aiden would stand up to him and call him out on his stupidity and Marcus would be a pompous bootlicker. So Bishop will savor these moments while they last. 

Because family was  _ everything  _ to him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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